For the past couple of months, Michael would visit the Jollters on a regular basis. He'd be the first customer in and the last customer out. There was something about this coffee shop Michael found inspiring and calming. He used to have several places to visit when the solitude of his home became suffocating, but one by one they all dropped out of his interest until only the Jollters remained.

It was smaller than most coffee shops, yet it was still up to a certain standard he appreciated. Consequently, the place was not as crowded and way quieter, which was more than compatible with his writing. And his research too.

Since he began writing in the Jollters, he'd scrapped his book twice. The previous two attempts felt cheesy and artificial, and he did not want his literature to become one of those cheesy aristocratic highlander books old people liked to read for excitement after their favouritr telenovelas stopped airing on TV. He hated how stereotypical his view on such literature was, but he could not help himself.

Luckily, he discovered the Jollters, which helped him with his writing and inspiration.

After spending so much time there writing and observing, the freshly brewing fictional romance had become more real, more insecure, more like actual true-to-life romance.

The interactions between characters became more pristine and more secluded unlike before when long declarations of feelings were present in almost every scene. He hated such declarations when watching a film or reading a book. When he thought about it, he realised he'd probably never made a single emotional declaration out loud, even less a particularly long one. He liked to keep his things and feelings his own. However, once a pen was in his hands, or in his case, a laptop was underneath his fingers, he could write about emotional experience, maturity, the intensity of feelings and everything that comes along with it dor hours to come.

There were days when he didn't write a single sentence, and was only gaining info on people's reactions. When a couple had a break-up meeting to try and figure things out, he'd keep a close eye on how the man's brows furrowed when he thought there was no saving the relationship, or how the woman's tone gradually changed as she was steadily giving up on her partner.

He'd take notes on such matters and soon he had pages filled with observations of good and bad nostalgia, fresh and exciting love, concrete yet rocky affection, indifference between two friends who were once prepared to go to the end of the world together, and he could apply all that to any of his characters. And when he did, they truly started to come to life.

But that wasn't the only thing the Jollters could offer him.

As someone who prefered to keep to himself, loathed going out and struggled to make friends, he was thankful for the warm and friendly treatment he got from one of the workers there.

Although he spent hours on end in the café, he usually only spoke to her around closing time, and he saw her visibly relax around him with each time that he lingered around for a bit. Reserved manner and polite conversations soon turned into an inside joke here and there or a philosophical conversation about ordinary and exceptional lives.

He gradually noticed the treatment of a regular customer that he got from her - at specific time of the day, there was always a new strange concoction waiting for him. Sometimes he'd get a classic strange cocoa, sometimes he'd get a hot ginger lemonade with chili flakes, and some other time there would be a mushroom matcha waiting for him or a hot strawberry latte with caramel drizzle. He was pretty sure that sometimes she made up some of the recipes as she went along, but that made him feel all warm and cozy inside. She took her time with all of the beverages, and she always tried to make them look as appealing as possible.

He'd happily sit in a corner of the coffee shop and drink whatever strange mixture she got for him, and try to write. Except this last week.

This last week was different because even though he would religiously visit Jollters with a laptop like he always had, he was working on something else than his writing - primarily trying to convince Ashley to postpone any live meetings as much as possible. There, however, came a time when that was no longer possible.

Instead of a document where all his later chapters were waiting to be met with a new one, he was rereading the same e-mail over and over again and was mentally preparing himself for the beginning of auditions. It was pretty much one of his bigger fears - spending a lot of time in the company of many people with whom you couldn't even get comfortable with because they were on constant rotation.

"Hello, are you ready to see what I've mustered up for you today?" The voice of that kind waitress stopped his train thought that mostly consisted of imagining how uncomfortable and awkward those auditions will probably be for everyone included.

He looked up from his laptop in a sort of surprise. She rarely walked up to him and usually waited around the counter for him to say he's ready for a drink now. "Oh..."

She smiled apologetically, which made him feel guilty. She was only being kind, but his confused distress must've been so visible that it threw her off. "I kept an eye on the clock and you missed your usual time slot for your order. It looked like you're pretty occuppied with something, so I thought I'd bring it to you. Especially since it's such a quiet day today."

Michael looked outside and observed how the pouring rain slid down the windowshield of the coffee shop. He supposed that the majority of people prefer to stay at home on days like that, in the comfort of their own abode.

He looked back at her and gave her a thankful smile for thankful he definitely was. He felt like he was being looked after instead of being completely invisible. "Thank you, that's very thoughtful of you. You're right, I've been... busy with e-mails regarding my career."

"Hopefully not something bad?" She asked, while still holding the drink away from him.

He didn't know if she cared about wha had been going on in his life, but he appreciated the approach. "No, it's quite good, actually." He knew that people would kill for an opportunity like his and he felt like he should be more grateful for getting it. However, his reservation regarding people was, unfortunately, stronger than that and always had been.

Her face didn't give away much when she smiled, but from what he'd learnt about her, she had her own hopes and disappointments plaguing her mind. It's where his and her views differed greatly when talking about life, goals and achievements.

"Maybe I should've come up with something more festive then," she said and placed a tall latte glass on the table next to his laptop. "It's called Metro. Two espressos in mineral water with a touch of vanilla. I saw the recipe and thought I'd never touch something like that, so I guessed that'd be the perfect drink for you."

It was not exactly what she said, but the way she said it. Michael felt a sense of belonging with her working at the Jollters because he felt like his weird side was now being seen by someone and instead of her ridiculing it, she managed to turn it into their thing.

"You guessed correctly," he smiled and inmediately tried the drink, which just seemed odd to him. His mind was too preoccupied with the challenge that was awaiting him with Ashley today to think about that touch of vanilla that mixed strangely with the bubbles. He, in fact, welcomed the slightly burning sensation of the mineral water as it went down his throat.

"I have no idea how you can drink something like that," she remarked when a couple that walked by the Jollters and looked like potential customer just kept on walking.

Michael smiled again. Though his nerves were doing their own things, he was grateful for this mundane conversation that steered his racing thoughts elsewhere. A little bit out of fun and spite and a little bit out of nerves, he almost drank half of the beverage in one sitting.

When he set the drink down, the waitress was just as amazed in disgust as before. "Does that mean you'd like another one a bit later on?"

He wanted to accept that with his whole heart. The café has become a comfortable and safe space for him when he wanted to write, but also seemingly socialise. He wanted nothing more than continue doing that and stay in his odd drink bubble with Rosalie, but he had other obligations on his schedule today.

"I'm afraid that today's only going to be one drink," he said apologetically and saying that hit him harder than he thought it would. Previously, that meeting only existed in his head and on an e-mail. Now that he said it out loud, it became reality, like confirmation that that is indeed going to happen.

"Oh," said Rosalie and Michael was convinced she looked a bit... sad. He, however, pushed that thought away, he knew that the power of his imagination should not be underestimated, and while that's a great thing to have as a novelist, as a human being interacting with other real human beings, it can lead to delusional disasters.

"Yeah, my days have become very busy as of late. I'm looking forward to the day that I can come back and just enjoy strange drinks the entire day, though," he reassured her.

Rosalie smiled and tilted her head. "I'm looking forward to that day as well."

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If Ashley ever indicated that she might not be able to be there with him, he wouldn't have gone. He was in no way relaxed, confident or interested in talking to other unknown people about it whose life revolves around doing great business deals. It's why he enjoyed the Jollters and Rosalie's company so much, nobody there asked anything of him, he was left at peace.

"How are we feeling, my favourite best-selling author?" Ashley smiled widely, a deep red lipstick accentuating her flawless teeth.

"Surviving, I think."

"Are you not at all excited? It's just doing a bit of campaign and then script-writing with the people you've met before. You liked them, didn't you?"

That script-writing with Mr Avagyan and Miss Patrick was what kept him going. He was excited to see them again, especially after the ideas that they additionally ran by him after the meeting were all to his liking. It showed that their fan demeanour that they showed during the lunch wasn't a facade to get him to cooperate, but real love for the book he wrote.

It was the marketing campaign and setting up the ad for the auditions that were weighing on him. He wanted to stay in a little cocoon with his nerdy writer buddies.

"I did. I do." Michael sighed. "It's just... people."

Ashley's shoulders weighed down in sympathy and she gave his a quick little massage to instill some courage in him. "I know, honey. I know you don't like them. It's why I combined the schedule in such a way that you get rewarded with your writing meeting!"

"More manipulation from your side?" He smiled as he recalled her trick that got him to attend the contract signing. At the time, he thought it was the end of the world, but looking at it from current perspective, he saw that she was doing what was best for him. Things were really working out.

Ashley made that innocent girlish smile, the kind that little girls put on to look innocent and cute and get out of trouble.

Michael nodded and braced himself. "You're right to do that. I don't think I'd get anywhere otherwise."

"That's why you have me in your corner. Now, I hope you're looking forward to getting things done and moving."

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Things went better than Michael anticipated. He still loathed having to talk to people about his characters, the kind of people he is going to be looking for, and which marketing campaign was most to his liking. He saw all businessmen and marketing genuises as flesh-eating furies, while he was just an artist with deep love for telling stories and inspiring a sense of romance in people. Two very different kinds of people.

He was glad to see the meeting come to an end, but he knew that the hustle had only just begun. Soon, after Mr Avagyan and Miss Patrick help him finish parts of the script, that will cause a long chain reaction of sitting through auditions and watching people.

Ironically, Michael wasn't looking forward to that, even though he spent mornings, afternoons and evenings observing people in the Jollters. This, in his opinion, was different. People will come to the auditions to put on a mask, and the best mask is most likely going to win. Michael's interest lied in people being genuine and completely themselves.

He met with Mr Avagyan and Miss Patrick soon afterwards and his mood improved significantly. It was time to write, the only thing that he thought he'd ever been good at.

After spending some time just chatting and talking anything else but the novel, the production or script-writing, they began with the exchange of ideas.

Michael's prediction of the character of his two script co-writers was correct, they really wanted to do the novel justice. They recommended what to change and how to apply those changes, but they were minimal at best, which Michael didn't mind. He was aware that his character, writing style and perception all changed since he'd written The Nightingale, so changes were in a way welcome.

The experience was a big learning curve for Michael. He'd always imagined that adapting a novel into a script was a breeze - find the scenes, write out the dialogue and then perhaps shorten some conversations or eliminate certain scenes. Now, that he was doing this with Mr Avagyan and Miss Patrick, Michael began to understand why the film trilogy Fifty Shades was bad cinematography, partially the script adaptation was to blame. One had to give it more thought than just eliminating descriptions and leaving in the dialogue.

Nonetheless, he enjoyed the experience. He enjoyed diving back into the universe of the novel he had written ages ago, he loved exploring the characters that once felt like his second nature. It felt like meeting them for the first time and getting to know to them. Every step of the way, he was surprising himself with his writing and character development and eventually actually thought: Wow... Did I write this?

Mr Avagyan and Miss Patrick, who insisted on being called by their first names, Haig and Nastasia, were the best co-writers he could've ever ask for. They handled his creation with care and wanted to make it blossom in the script form.

Jacob, the protagonist of The Nightingale, was gradually becoming more than just a character novel, and so did Michael's Aurora. Michael was soon losing himself in the text and got sucked into a vortex of storytelling, which was the same feeling her got when he was finishing his first draft of the novel.

Transforming them into playable characters changed Michael's viewpoint on them. Some things that worked in the novel didn't immediately translate too well in the script form and he and his co-writers had to give it extra thought to draw out the character that'd be authentic to its original.

"What if Jacob, instead of only feeling being haunted by his struggles, he talks to his friend or about it or writes it down somewhere? It'd make it more impactful, more real, perhaps?" Suggested Nastasia at some point.

"If we use Aurora's past experience that changed her view on life, it'll be hard to make the movie about anything else but that. We should work around that, present it in a more mellow, but impactful way to keep the same focus in the film." Some other time suggested Haig.

Michael reviewed their suggestions and they played around with different possibilities. Some he agreed with, some were not to his liking, and Nastasia and Haig listened to his wishes, even though they would sometimes demand of them to do extra work, a lot of rewriting and more rejecting of script drafts.

By the end of a long session, Michael was happy with the current final product. They had only fully written a couple of scenes, but those scenes were the ones that really mattered to Michael. If Ashley and Jesse fought ferociously for him having a lot of say in the production, he was going to reap all the benefits.

As he looked at the draft of the scenes that are fundamental for Jacob's and Aurora's characters, he realise that they were done with the product that was needed for the auditions.

Michael couldn't wait to tell Ashley that he was doing his job and not just making her life harder by being impossible to work with.

The scenes that were going to decide who's going to have the honour to transform into Jacob and who in Aurora were done and ready to be forwarded to the casting director.